My Patience Has Worn Thin
by RedMonocle
Summary: Modern day AU, based on three prompts from tumblr. Kotetsu is a barista, and Barnaby is his least favorite customer. When Barnaby refuses to quit talking on the phone while ordering, Kotetsu gets back at him by misspelling his name. But when the name puns go little too far, where do they end up? Three chapters. COMPLETE.
1. Do I Look Like I Care?

**A/N:**

 **[All characters in this story belong to Sunrise/Bandai Namco Pictures, the creators/owners of Tiger and Bunny.** ** **Brand names referenced also do not belong to me, nor am I associated with them in any way. Any portrayals of company actions or views are not meant to be taken seriously, as this is entirely a work of fiction not meant to defame in any manner.** ]**

 **I was debating whether or not to just make this a really long one-shot or a two-shot, but here I am and here it is in this state. This was really fun to write. Well, challenging, definitely, but still very fun :P I put the prompts below (and by the way, didn't quite follow them too strictly), and, for the most part, no story warnings for anything except coarse language and dirty-ish humor/situations, heh.** ** **The perspective is dual first-person, so heads up to make sure no one gets confused.** Hope ya enjoy, peeps! **

**(Also, shout out to Ninjabobo529 for showing the me the prompts and helping me find a way to lead into the third one! Hope you're having a nice summer so far! o3o)**

 **-Reddie**

* * *

 ** _Prompts:_**

 ** _I'm a barista and you're the obnoxious customer who comes through and orders a venti macchiato while talking on the phone the whole time so I misspell your name in increasingly creative ways every day AU_**

 ** _I'm a busy businessperson and my barista keeps misspelling my name in increasingly disrespectful ways, honestly, who does this person think they are AU_**

 ** _I saw you trying to hit the "door close" button in the elevator but I made it in and then I pushed every single button to make you later for work, but now we're stuck in this fucking elevator as it stops at every single floor and I don't know what to say other than "you started it" AU_**

* * *

 **-KOTETSU T. KABURAGI-**

You know, I get along pretty well with a lot of people.

I get along with Keith and his obnoxious habit of repeating every other thing he says twice because he's a good guy. I get along with Nathan and all his come-ons because he really is a caring person behind it all. I get along with that one snooty high schooler who comes through here after three every Thursday because I've seen how loyal she is to her friends.

But I don't get along with _that guy_ because I absolutely cannot think of a single redeeming quality about him.

Now, I won't lie. The first time he came through here, I forgot how to talk for a second, because, _fuck_ , was he attractive, with that lush blond hair and those cool green eyes cutting right into me. But like hell I'd let anyone, especially Nathan, onto that. I mean, I'm mostly into women, but every now and then, I might get a bit warm-faced over a particular guy passing by. It's mostly the slender, tinier guys that get me, but I've had my exceptions, seeing as that guy is actually kinda tall, little over my height, and a little built too. He might be a model, since he always comes in wearing some get-up that looks like it's meant for magazine pages. I don't know.

But what I do know for certain is that he's an absolute dick.

Because, at that first meeting, as I fumbled to grab an empty venti cup, I asked, "Can I get your name?"

And at that moment in time, he was clearly speaking on the phone with someone, which really wasn't a hassle in itself. I was patient, and there was only this one girl with a pretty scarf behind him, so I awaited his reply with a smile. The fact that he took so long to hang up wasn't what made him a dick.

No, it was that little glance over at me, and that little shit-eating smirk that said he _knew_ he was holding things up and I couldn't do a damn thing about it.

Brows furrowed, I repeated, "Can I get your name?"

And with a sigh, he finally muttered into the receiver, "Hold on a second—" and said it so quickly that I barely caught it, "Barnaby—Anyway, as I was saying, I just wanted to know if we could reschedule around—"

"I'm sorry?" I leaned in a bit, tilting an ear in his direction, because, like a decent human being, I just wanted to make sure I got it right. But at this, he only rolled his eyes and continued speaking, merely giving a dismissive hand wave, his silent permission to write whatever the hell I thought I heard onto his cup.

Just for that, I put down his name as "Barnabby" and watched with crossed arms and a smirk as he squinted at the name heading out.

* * *

That was the first of many times I would screw up his name on purpose.

I would've stopped, but he never put his phone down, the arrogant little prick. So really, he brought it on himself. The first few times were just relevant to his attire. The day he came in wearing a yellow sweater with a honeybee on it, I gave him "Barnabee" with an adorable little doodle of the smiling bug on his chest. I thought maybe it might make him laugh a bit and we could just sweep things under the rug, but he scrunched up his face slightly without out turning to look back at me, the sourpuss. Then, when he came in wearing a shirt with a bakery name, I gave him "Barnabread", earning a look of confusion. After that, the day he came in wearing something fuschia, I gave him "Barney" with the thought of a certain dinosaur brought to mind (my daughter used to love the hell out that show), thinking maybe that'd get him this time, but then he just sort of looked up at me in disbelief, before turning tail, nose in the air.

And that was when I was starting to wonder who exactly shoved a stick up his ass.

So I started pushing it a little further, seeing where the limit was until I could get this iceberg of a hottie to crack a nice, warm smile in the very least. I gave him things like "Barbany", "Barbie", and even "B'rn'b'", but nothing loosened him up. No, this guy was just a big, impenetrable ball of grump who tightened up his lips and brows a little more every time I tried put a bit of sunshine in his life. And as obnoxious as it was that he _continued_ talking on the phone no matter what, I couldn't help but start to feel a little bad for him.

Exactly what made a charming young stud like him so cold, so uptight? It really was so unbecoming, so unfortunate, so… _uncute_ for someone so good-looking to only ever smirk like an asshole when he smiled. And as much as I very badly wanted to see him genuinely grin, I was running out of ideas until one particular encounter, during a shift where I was very, very glad to be indoors.

* * *

Rain is no stranger to Manhattan, especially now as November rolls in to greet the streets by dumping buckets over everyone's dirty cars. So as I'm minding my own business mixing together a matcha frapp for some pale-haired guy fiddling with a paper crane, he comes in, dripping rainwater all over the floor—and making my job a lot more difficult—as he shakes even more droplets out of his hair without bothering to brush his feet on the mat at the door… all while _still talking on the phone_.

"Jeez, ever heard of an umbrella?" I can't help but mutter under my breath with a chuckle as he begins towards the counter. I hand the crane guy—Ivan, that's what's on his cup, I think—his drink, earning myself an unexpected bow, and then, when the sexy asshat gets within about a foot of me, I see his pert, pink little nipples under his thin, white dress shirt. I want to snort, to laugh out loud, but that's mean, because hell, he can't help wearing what he needs to for work. "Hey, what can I get ya?"

"Hi, I'd like a venti caramel frappuccino." He says a bit out of breath, eyes flickering between me and the flip phone against his cheek.

"Oh, would you now?" I tease, leaning in and knowing now he can't say a damn thing. I make a very clear point to _look down_ , before suggesting, "Because you look more like you could use something to warm you up instead."

The guy doesn't know what to say. He opens his mouth, then closes it, then, opens it again, no sound coming out. He seems to be at a loss for words, and I can actually see how torn he is between continuing his call and _actually putting down his phone_ for once. Not to mention, the flush on his face is _priceless_.

"Yes." He pauses, eyes on the ground, his face still incredibly red, "That would be good. Thank you."

"Alright then!" I reply just as he hangs up, instantly jotting down my latest revelation of a perfect misspelling.

"N-No, wait," He begins, eyes panicked, "that's not what I—"

"Hey, no worries! It's on me. And it should be quicker than a frapp, anyhow." I smirk, handing it right back to him.

"Oh. Well then, thanks, I guess." There's a hint of hesitation as he takes the latte from me, and for a moment, I swear I see the smallest smile as he takes a sip. Sure, it seems a little smug, but I can't help but feel like, maybe, there might be a bit of sincere happiness in there. And that kind of warms my heart just a little, thinking when he finally looks at what I wrote that he might actually burst into full-on laughter.

But no, he just… chokes on his coffee, that's all.

"Whoa, hey buddy," I say, putting my hands up, "you okay?" How can he choke over _that_? All I wrote was "Barnaboob"!

At last, the cough settled, and he got out the reply, "I'm fine."

"Ya sure?" I ask in concern, placing my hand over his. Instantly, he swats it away, face still blushing like hell.

"Do not." He warns, pushing my hand back towards me. "Touch. Me."

"Um. Alright?" Is all I can say, smiling sheepishly back at him. His eyes harden into a glare for just a moment, before he closes them and pinches the bridge of his nose. Apologetically, I nudge the latte towards him and add, "You can still have the coffee."

"Well, it'd be a waste to throw it out." He scoffs, swiping it off the counter as the fluorescent lighting above us flickers, sort of like twitching the way his eyebrow just did. Just then, he makes a face and snaps his phone open against his cheek, dialing someone up before saying, "Hello, Barnaby Brooks Jr. speaking. I have a complaint I'd like to voice about customer service. Uh-huh. I see. So then, when and where should I go to file a complaint? Alright then."

"Er, have a nice day!" I slip in at the last second, hoping for a nod in the very least, but it's just the same stupid _whatever_ hand wave and his back faced towards me.

And just to top it off, I hear him say, "Who was that? Oh, no one special, don't worry about it," right before walking out the door. With that, I hang my head with a groan.

"Dammit!"

But before I can throw myself a pity party over… whatever that little disaster was, a puff of breath passes right over my ear, causing me to jolt.

"Ooh, honey, you _really_ shouldn't have done that." Nathan shakes his head with a chuckle, elbow propped up on my shoulder.

"Done what?" I harrumph, crossing my arms, "Given him a drink out of my own paycheck? I don't see anything wrong with that."

"Phooey, that is _soooo_ not it."

"What'd I do wrong then?" I huff, "I was just trying to get him to smile a bit."

"Really? Because it looked more to me like you were trying to get yourself reported to HR for sexual harassment!"

"You _can't_ be serious." I blink back at him, shocked by the accusation, from _him_ of all people (as if I haven't seen him grabbing Antonio's ass before!). But no, he just puts his hands on his hips and glares at me.

"Sweetheart, do I _look_ like I'm kidding you?" He leans over, eyes shifting around, before dropping his tone, "Don't think I didn't catch you. You looked and talked to him in an _awfully_ suggestive manner before scribbling down that raunchy little pun of yours, so you're not necessarily innocent."

"But, my intentions weren't to—!"

"Doesn't matter what your intentions were, because that's how it came off to him. Listen, that phone call he made _right before he left_ did _not_ sound pleasant. So if I were you, I'd chase him down before he can formally file that complaint with HR and negotiate with him to reconsider reporting you."

"Hmm…" Well, Nathan's advice hasn't failed me yet. "Alright. You know the building I gotta go to then?"

* * *

 **-BARNABY BROOKS JR.-**

It's always been this way for me, really.

With my looks and intellect, I've never truly known a moment's rest. As a grade-schooler, my life was acting for commercials and learning to read chapter books in first grade. As a high-schooler, it was running the afterschool robotics club and modeling for clothing stores over the summer at the mall. As a college student, it was commencement ceremonies and an internship at Apollon Garments. And now, thanks to that in to the industry with my college activities, I'm up and running as a successful model, hopping between the states for photoshoots and fashion shows, building my portfolio, and basically going nowhere but forward in the business.

I am a very busy man, you see, so I don't have time or patience for a lot of things, namely tomfoolery and poor customer service in general.

Which is why for the life of me, I have close to no tolerance for that one barista—Kotetsu, if I remember reading his name correctly—and that late-running electrician. Believe me, if I had the time, I'd whip up a caffeinated concoction for myself and take care of the lights in my apartment, but I simply _don't have the time_. Today alone, I have a number of places I need to be: turn in my updated portfolio to another agent, hit the gym to keep up with my exercise regime (with enough time to shower off afterwards), do a local photoshoot for a specialty costume café, file that complaint to the electric company in the hopes they'd send someone over immediately to fix the lights before I leave for Los Angeles tomorrow morning, and pack the last of my things tonight for my flight there.

At this point, I've grown used to this kind of run-around. Modeling, although a fulfilling endeavor, is excruciatingly unpredictable as it demands my presence at various venues day to day, so getting all of this done all boils down to how I manage my time. This is where multitasking had become my best friend. After three intense years in high school as president of the robotics club, I had always been good at calculating and planning for upcoming events, to the point where now I can easily arrange my time even on a last-minute basis. And in theory, my plans were all _perfect_. But, of course reality always throws in those unaccounted for variables. I like to think I leave enough room to deal with those, and that I possess just enough patience to take them on. But my patience has worn thin.

Before, there had been little risk to ruining my schedule involved in going for a quick caramel frapp. And quite honestly—though begrudgingly—I'd still have to say that was the case, seeing that the service I've received at the establishment has been close to nothing but excellent. As much as I hated to admit it, even that unwarranted suggestion to have a latte instead saved me some time this rainy afternoon (and likely kept me from catching a cold, which would've hindered me in my work). But I still despised Kotetsu's antics.

Who exactly did that man think he _was_ , intentionally misspelling my name like that? I graduated as the salutatorian of my high school and maintained a 4.0 GPA throughout all of college. I've done photoshoots and even walked the runway for some of most elite designers in the fashion industry. I've spent years at this job maintaining my physique and reputation as one of the most stunning male models on the East Coast. And he has the fucking nerve to taunt me on regular basis with a ridiculous slew of _name puns_?

Obviously, he was just doing this to get a rise out of me, but like hell I'd let him get exactly what he wanted. No way I'd let someone who disrespected the name of Barnaby Brooks Jr. have his way with me so easily. Besides, I was above reacting to insults as petty as "Barnaboob". At the end of the day, indulging him with even a single retort would just be a waste of my time in the midst of my busy schedule. Therefore, it wasn't worth it, especially since I wouldn't be seeing him for the next few months (maybe even the next year, for all I knew) after I took off for California.

 _He_ was nothing worth wasting time on, and I'd leave it at that.

* * *

I'm not sure what place Kotetsu had in thinking he could hit on the man renowned as New York's sexiest (at least, according to the last magazine I posed for), but I'm at least half-thankful to have lingered for that little fiasco because the little flicker in the lights just then reminded me that I still had to call for an electrician to fix the lights in my apartment.

Really, I'd been calling for over a month now for someone to do the repairs, but they still have yet to send anyone over, so I thought it was best for me to take advantage of the reminder right then and call them right away to file a complaint. Usually, that sort of shove was what it took to get the job done. And at this rate, things would proceed according to plan, as per usual.

"Barnaby!"

But, now, I can clearly see a new threatening variable has been thrown my way… because, there he is, chasing me down and nearly causing me to choke a second time on the coffee he bought me.

I grumble to myself under my breath, bewildered and displeased, "For fuck's _sake_ …"

"Hey, buddy! Wait! I need to talk to you!" He calls out for me from behind, his voice signaling his growing proximity. With that, I speed up my pace—continuing to walk, but not running—to reach the empty elevator just then opening up to me. Stepping inside is only half the battle won, but the door is still wide open, giving him enough hope to charge straight for me, but like hell I'll give him the chance to get in!

Urging my will to be done, I tap repeatedly on the "door close" button to the elevator, wishing those damned doors would hurry up and shut him out already. But, by some unlucky draw at the expense of my fate, he manages to squeeze through the door right before it closes us both into the space.

And as he begins punching every single button for every floor in this building—there have to be at least thirty here!—I howl at him and frantically make a grab for his hands.

"Just what do you think you're doing, you crazy old man?"

"Buying some time! You and I need to have a talk!" He grunts, resisting my efforts, "And who are you calling old, pal? I'm only thirty five!"

"Like it matters!" I shout, banging my fist against the wall, "Listen, I don't know who you think you are to waste my time like this, but I have a list of things I need to do today, and enduring your yammering isn't on it!"

Just then, the elevator makes an awful buzzing noise, jarring both of us into dead silence.

Then, slowly, he begins to say, "What was that?"

And then, after a few minutes of realizing that the elevator has gone still and the doors are not moving, I feel all the blood drain from my face. No, this just _can't_ be happening.

"We're trapped in here."

"What?" He gasps, pressing at the floor buttons again, "Agh, like hell we are! Come on, stupid elevator, you can't be serious!"

Swatting his hands away, I reprimand, "Quit pressing the buttons! You'll jam them!"

"Hey, you're the one who _broke_ the damn thing with your little hissy fit just now! Did you honestly expect to just slam your fist against the wall without screwing something up?" He wrests his hands away and continues to press the buttons. I make a grab for them yet again, clutching his wrists even tighter.

"Dammit, I already said stop with that!"

"You started it!" He huffs childishly, breaking free from my hold again to cross his arms this time. "What the hell was that, trying to close the door on me?"

"If anything, I should be asking _you_ what you're doing here! How did you even know this was where I was headed?"

"Obviously because of that phone call you made on the way out!"

I blink at him, confused by his train of thought, "What... are you talking about?"

"You came here to report me for sexual harassment, right? You were asking where you could file a complaint, and they told you this was the place to come, didn't they?" I'm at a loss for words because he _really_ cannot be any more wrong as to why I'm here. Before I can even find a reply though, he sighs and hangs his head, then taking off his hat, "Well, you have adequate reason to. But at least let me explain myself. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable by writing 'Barnaboob' on your cup. I just… thought it could make you laugh."

"Make me… laugh?" I echo blankly.

"Yeah, or smile in the very least! I mean, _I_ thought it was funny… but I guess I took it a little too far, so for that, I'm really sorry."

"Well." I lean back against the wall, stunned at how deeply our miscommunication ran, "I'd accept your apology, but… the fact of the matter is I didn't come here to report you for anything."

Snapping his sights back up towards me, he blinks, "What?"

I can only nod at him. But he keeps staring at me like he doesn't believe me, prompting an explanation on my part. With a sigh, I place my coffee on the ground so I can hold up the folder tucked inside my bag.

"I'm here to turn in my updated portfolio for work. And that phone call I made earlier was to complain about the fact that no one has come over to my place to fix the lights yet." I divulge, then pushing past him towards the panel of buttons. "Anyhow, I can't linger here too long. I have other places I need to be today, so it'd be best for us to cooperate on getting out of this elevator as quickly as possible. Did you press the call button?"

"I _would've_ , if you had let me earlier." He harrumphs, sitting down.

"You were just pressing the floor buttons, like _that_ was going to help." I rejoin defensively, looking over the panel before coming across the call button. "I was right to stop you. Now, sit there and stay quiet. Complaining won't get us out of here any faster."

"Urgh… fine then." He flaps his arm about in the air, before pouting and putting his hat back on. Then, with an ungraceful plop, he sinks to the floor to sit down, giving up an immature noise, "Hmph." Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I bring my attention back towards the panel, awaiting a voice over the intercom.

I'm just hoping today won't be as long as it feels like it's going to be.


	2. Oh, How the Tables Have Turned!

**-KOTETSU T. KABURAGI-**

The sooner we get out of this mess, the better, because I can't believe I went to the trouble of chasing this jerk down only to find out he _wasn't_ going to report me. The worst part is I don't know whether or not to feel like I have the shittiest luck.

The fact that he starts stripping as soon as he's done talking to the technician and calling his agent sure don't help me figure that out either. And fuck, as much as I want to look away… just _damn_.

With a slight blush, he commands, "Show some decorum, dirty old man, and quit staring at me."

"Why the hell are you even stripping?" I retort, leaving him to throw his half-damp top over my face. Growling, I toss it off to the opposite corner… knocking the coffee over by mistake. He sends a glare my way, to which I can only sheepishly scratch the back of my neck at. "I didn't mean that."

Giving up a sigh, he bends down to place it upright again. I watch in displeasure as the liquid soaks into the carpet of the flooring. That's definitely going to be gross, not to mention a big hassle to the guy who has to clean it up later.

"Goodness, it's like you attract trouble to yourself…" He comments rudely, giving me reason to glare at him this time. But, as per usual, there's no breaking through this hard-ass little hotshot. He just goes on pretending that I don't even exist to him. You know, actually, I'm starting to wonder why I even bothered trying to make him smile. He's just a plain old _brat_ , period.

Just then, I watch him pull out a pair of rabbit ears from his bag, and I snort before I can stop myself. His sights snap back towards me, glowering, as he puts them on.

At that, I can't stop myself from bawling with laughter, "Oh _god_ , if you had just worn that earlier, then… ahahaha!"

"Then _what_?" He snaps back, his voice falling like a hiss but, just _fuck everything_ , I can't take him seriously with those floppy pink ears dangling over his head.

"I-I would've written 'Bunny' on your cup instead!" I can barely even talk from laughing so hard, "That would've been pure gold! Ahaha! "

"It's a _rabbit_ costume, you jackass!" He defends, but I can't help but laugh louder, at the fact that he's so worked up over this get-up. "I have to wear this for a photoshoot later on today, so quit laughing at me!"

And with the tense way his shoulders are drawn up, and hard lines across his stern expression, I remember exactly why I was wondering about a smile over him. And that's when I feel the laughter dying in my throat, because, wait a second, he's getting his undies in a bunch over a dumb pair of bunny ears. It's almost upsetting to think a guy as young as him could be so wound up over something this small.

"Guess it's nice to finally have an explanation there, like I was asking earlier." I lean back against the wall, averting my eyes as he tugs something skimpy with a fluffy tail over his ass, "Still… I think it'd do you some good to loosen up a bit, little _bunny_." I can't help the smile once it passes my lips. Bunny… man, that name suits him pretty well.

"It's _Barnaby_ to you." He says coldly as he yanks his pants back on, but the tidbit of distance in his voice makes my pity for him rise a little higher, "Just shut it. You wouldn't know the first thing about me."

I offer a hand up to the air, "Come on, I'm pretty sure we can relate on at least _some_ level."

"Really?" I can hear the hint of challenge behind those lips, the edge of a smirk creeping onto his features, "Tell me then, what a barista who can't spell has in common with one of the most handsome models on the East Coast. I want to know."

"Let's see…" So he really is a model, like I figured. I ponder a second, before going on to reply, "well, if anything, I get that it must be tough to work under pressure. The lines get pretty long on the weekends, so it's definitely a taxing situation… and I'm guessing you've been spread out pretty thin by your own job too."

"Oh? What makes you figure that?"

"Like… doesn't modeling involve a constant upkeep of your appearance or something?" I count off on my fingers, "Right diet, right amount of exercise, right amount of sleep and all of that? Or am I wrong?"

"You… have that right for the most part." Ah, poor thing, I can hear how worn out he must feel just thinking about all of that. No wonder the guy's so fucking high-strung! He never gets a break from his job! He can't really let go for just a second and pig out on junk food with full abandon or not worry about missing a day at the gym.

I voice the first thing that comes to mind with that thought, "And I'm guessing that's stressful?"

He pouts, "Nothing I can't handle."

"Just because you can handle it doesn't mean it's not stressful." He shuts up at this, again at a loss for words, just like the little encounter that ended us up in the mess. And I don't know where the concern is coming from, but there it is, and now I'm pressing, "Admit it. It is, isn't it?"

Instead, he settles to sit in front of me and utters, "So what if it is? It's worth it." His voice begins to rise, with a glimmer in his eyes behind those glasses, "I _like_ the attention I get. I _like_ the compliments, the parties, the _renown_. I get to travel all over the country and I never have to pay for any of my meals away from home. It's all _great_ , and I wouldn't trade it for anything." And with that, a dreamy, content look paints his features, his lips curving upwards into a very sweet, very genuine _smile_.

Damn, if that isn't one of the cutest things I've ever seen… not sure I could quite ask for anything more.

"Hey, you smiled!" I clap, "Finally!" He flushes at that, his cheeks taking on about the same color as his bunny ears.

Readjusting his glasses in a cheap attempt to cover it up, he remarks, "Small things amuse small minds, I see."

But I can't even find it in me to be mad at that, not when I finally made him smile _for real_ , not when it warms my heart to know that I finally cracked through this tough impassive façade to find a sensitive side underneath it all. And now that I know such a side to him exists, it only makes me want to see even _more_.

Leaning my hand against my cheek, "Say what you will, but that was no small thing. That was a big deal coming from you." I don't really have time to relish the way he turns even redder, because there's a little buzz and beep in my pocket telling me that someone wants to talk. Digging my phone out, I answer, "Hello? Kotetsu here!"

"Hey, Dad, it's Kaede. Just wondering where you are. You're still coming to watch me skate, right?"

"Oh!" I slap a hand over my mouth as I quickly pull the phone back to check the time. Shit, it's 3:20 already? And I'm supposed to meet her at the ice skating rink by 4:00. Dammit, how do I put this? "Well, sweetie, I really, really, _really_ hate to say this, but… something came up, and I'm not sure I'll be able to make it on time."

"You're not coming then, are you?" Fuck, I hate when she takes on that tone, obviously disappointed but trying so hard to be detached. No, I can't let my baby girl down again! I just can't!

"I am too coming!" I reassure, "I promise I'll be there, don't you worry!"

"Dad, forget it. Don't make a promise you can't keep." She sighs, breaking my heart that much more, "It's alright. I'll see you at home. At least try not to get back late this time, okay? Bye."

"Wait, Kaede!" Too late, she already hung up. "Ugh…"

Suddenly, it's like Barnaby exists again as he asks timidly, "What was that all about?"

"Oh, that was my daughter. I promised her I'd go watch her skate today, but… well, can't really do that trapped inside an elevator." I exhale, feeling like shit, "I know I shouldn't beat myself up for it, but I can't help but feel terrible. This isn't the first time I've left her hanging, after all…"

I swear, every damn time, something has to come up, and usually it's that I have to cover someone's shift at the last minute. And I hate it, because I truly do want to be there for her, but I… I just keep letting her down.

Apparently, I said all of that out loud, because now he's replying, "Huh. Lucky kid she is to have a dad that cares so much." With a shrug, he mutters, "I guess you're not _so_ bad."

I give up a laugh, "Glad to know at least someone sees I'm trying!"

Silence scatters between us, before he drops in, "What happened to her mom? Divorced?" The question takes me by surprise and kicks me in the gut because he can't be any further from the truth. But I guess I made a face because now he's backing off with, "Sorry, you don't have to answer that. I was just… curious, that was all."

"It's fine. We're not getting out of here any time soon, so we may as well just _talk_." Taking a deep breath, I start from the beginning.

* * *

 **-BARNABY BROOKS JR.-**

I'm not sure how to explain this feeling, but the longer I spend talking to him, the more he draws me in. He has this magnetism about him that just makes it hard for me not to wonder exactly what kind of past was responsible for shaping the personality of the goofy but multifaceted character sitting before me. I can't help but feel compelled to ask, to learn more about him, even though I know it's none of my business to know about a stranger's love life. And despite my efforts to hold my tongue, I still find the inquiry spilling past my lips.

It's oddly satisfying to find how eager he is to share the story with me.

Kotetsu had met Tomoe back in high school, and in between the years before they got married, they had a few breaks in which they had seen other people. It wasn't as though I'd never heard of a romance like that before. My parents' story went a similar a way, except they were in college and not high school, and they had met during freshman seminar and not choir practice. And like my parents, Kotetsu and Tomoe had a miracle a child, a birth that wasn't expected to go well but still did, and Kaede was their result. I was my parents'.

That's where the similarity ended, unfortunately.

While death—the gruesome, cruel collector that it was—was gracious enough to have taken both my parents before their time in the same night, Kotetsu had been left behind and torn from a woman he had known and loved since high school. The worst part of it was that he'd been given the hope that she could survive too.

"So, in the end, cancer got her, and that was that." He sighs, fiddling with his hat, "She told me before she died that she wanted me to move on if anything happened, so I did try. I have been on a couple of dates since then, but… well, nothing quite compared to what we had. But maybe the real reason I'm still single is because no one actually has any genuine interest in dating an old dad like me, heh."

"Nonsense," I find the reassurance passing my lips all too easily. "Anyone would be lucky to have you."

At this point, I'm quite sure I've had him all wrong. Sure, he acts pretty stupid, and goodness, is he a klutz, but… I can hardly imagine who exactly can find it in them to hate someone with such loyalty, such tenderness, such compassion. If the way he cares about his daughter hasn't told me enough, the guy went out of his way to try and make me smile, despite barely knowing me, despite the fact I had intentionally snubbed him in past encounters. His patience and selflessness, the way he thinks about the needs of others before his own… who the hell wouldn't fall for that?

"Alright, your turn." He grins at me (with a very teasing, _knowing_ glint in his amber eyes) and I look away with the embarrassment that I had been caught staring at him. Wait… what does he mean by "my turn"?

"Huh?"

"Tell me all about _your_ love life! I'm curious too!" He teases, "I bet you must be _real_ popular with the ladies, eh, little bunny? Or… any certain gentlemen in your life to sweep ya off your feet? I'm not exactly picking up any straight vibes from you, honestly." Well, he isn't necessarily wrong about that, but it's not like _I'd_ know…

I tug at my collar a little bit, "Uhm… well…"

Throughout my life, I've never really had too much time to think about romance, honestly, even though the idea had always appealed to me. I didn't really have much time to sort through figuring out my sexuality either, since I was always on the move, too busy to really think about who I liked or who I thought of as sexy. For the most part, it was people who were attracted to _me_ , not the other way around. And I never really found myself reciprocating the romantic sentiments of any of my admirers. I never got close enough to anyone to really feel that way, never really had the time to sit down and talk to someone, unravel their life story, share my own thoughts freely without calculation until… until now.

Oh no, this can't seriously be happening, not now, not with the kind of life I lead, not when I practically have no time to spare for _anyone_ , let alone a lover. And yet, with the way his expression softens, the tender look in his eyes directed at me, he's starting to really make me wish I did have the time.

"Don't be shy now." I feel myself swallow as Kotetsu looks at me with _those damn eyes_ , "I won't make fun of you or anything."

"Right. You don't… seem like the kind of guy who would."

"So…?"

Trying to ignore the fact that my pulse is thudding in my ears, I reply, "I-I've just never had time for that sort of thing." I almost want to slap myself for the little hiccup in my speech, but under his gaze, I can hardly find it in me to care too much about the way my voice is coming out. I blurt, unthinkingly, "I wish I did though…" With this, he shifts, leaning towards me.

"Well, we got time now," he murmurs gently. "And I'd be more than happy to show you a little bit of what you've been missing out on, if you want."

I bite my lip, nervously tracing my gaze down his face with the irrational wonder of what a kiss from him would feel like. I weigh the options for a second and, regardless of knowing that this is really a lot in such a short time, I find it harder and harder to get a grip on myself. My burning face and thumping heartrate continue to argue on behalf of letting those lips touch mine, telling me there would be no consequence to it.

Even with my clouded judgment, it does start to make logical sense, because I'm leaving for Los Angeles tomorrow, so there won't be the embarrassment of having to face him the next day. The distance will also give me time to get over any feelings that may develop in this short little time span, killing off whatever is in my heart before it has time to fester. Yeah… it doesn't have to be anything special! It can just be like that sample of crab cake I tried for the sake of trying just before leaving Chesapeake Bay.

"Sure thing…" is all I can muster together, but after such a long pause, Kotetsu must have decided my reply is too weak to continue any further with, as he leans back a little bit, his expression awash with hesitation and concern.

"You _really_ sure?" He whispers as he closes back in, his voice so gentle and sweet, his eyes about as warm as the way his breath falls over me. A shiver runs up my spine at this, and from there, my body seems to start moving on its own. Somehow, I find the nerve to lift up a shaky hand and tug him towards me by the front of his shirt.

There are sparks flickering behind my eyelids the moment our lips meet.

It's quick though, a too-light and too-fleeting brush as he pulls back, leaving me unsated. I start to wonder about his own certainty of proceeding on, but the affection and longing that paints his breathless expression tells me he's holding back when I _really_ don't want him to, not when this spare time is so limited. This is such a rare opportunity that I'd feel like an utter fool for not making the most of it.

Recognizing that he needs my enthusiasm, I decide to pull him back in, gripping him by the shoulder this time to drive the point home. Then I deepen the kiss best as I can, gliding my tongue lightly over his lower lip and hoping my inexperience doesn't take anything away from the endeavor. The pleased, low noise at the back of his throat is a faint reassurance that it doesn't. Head spinning with the thought that _he enjoys my kiss_ , I shudder and draw back for a moment to catch my breath.

"I hope," I pant, "that's sufficient enough for 'yes'."

He chuckles, eyelids hooded slightly, "Mm, well then… if you insist…"

Kotetsu dives back in for another now, confidently pouring out his passion in a way that makes me want to clutch him tighter. His mouth moves against mine, and I do what I can to keep up, daring to even nip at his bottom lip. He growls at that, and before I know it, his arms are wrapped around me and his tongue is sliding against mine in a manner that positively makes me _melt_. Uneasy, however, at the loss of control I feel for that brief moment, I slip my tongue back over his as well. It doesn't do much good as it only prompts his tongue to delve in further, finding the all the right movements to make me come undone.

So, as a last ditch attempt to take at least some charge over the situation, I move my hands under his shirt, once again breaking the kiss to recover the breath he'd so skillfully stolen.

Running my hands down his sides and relishing the way he shivers, I ask, "This alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, keep doing that..." He answers, muffling a small moan against my mouth, his tongue back to easing over mine again. But now I'm caught up in the way his skin feels beneath my fingers, its warmth and softness only barely masking the firmness of muscles I never really saw under his work apron. He jolts a bit as I brush a thumb over a nipple, before pressing my palm flat over his chest to feel his heartbeat, thudding about as heavily as mine. It's a delirious delight to find how breathless I can make him too when our mouths part, the way he pants just a little bit as he starts to speak up again. Trailing his own fingers along the edge of my shirt, he goes, "Can I just…"

"Go ahead." And so he does, hands sliding up my shirt to wander over my torso teasingly. It feels nice especially as he strokes over my abs, and with his impressed little hum, I can't help but smirk into the kiss just a bit. Then, unexpectedly, as those fingers skim down my sides a bit lighter than before, I curl into myself and tremble with an entirely different sort of feeling taking hold.

A high-pitched giggle bursts straight out of me at the next break between our lips.

"Aha!" He grins, wriggling his fingers into my stomach, "So you _are_ ticklish!"

I can't believe this is actually happening. I want to just die of embarrassment right now, but I can't stop the laughter spilling out of me as he continues tickling me, kissing me all the while.

"Ko-Kotetsu!" I manage to get out through the giggling fit, but with that he only increases his efforts until I'm squirming, unable to utter any noise besides laughter. This isn't the kind of feeling I was expecting, but it feels good nonetheless, and I can't quite find it in me to ask him to stop. I'm not even sure I want him to, if my laughter is something that can make him smile at me like that.

"Aw, Bunny, your laugh," He hums affectionately, pressing a short kiss to my nose, "is so _cute_!"

And I don't even care that he's using that ridiculous nickname, because the way it passes his lips here in this moment makes me want to hear him say it again. The caring tone to his voice and the tenderness in his eyes cause my brain to go fuzzy with pure _adoration_ for this man, and all I want to do is just kiss him senseless for as long as I'm able to, before someone can whisk us out of here and take him away from me.

Spurred, I grab his face and bring his lips back to mine, kissing him intensely so I can watch the fireworks dance behind my closed eyes. It's a wonder to my mind how anyone could make this man feel undesirable when clearly he deserves so much love, and I'd be willing to give to him all of mine if I only had more time. And I want more time. I'm even willing to _make_ more time for his sake, and even now, I can tell that's an awful, illogical idea.

Regardless, I subconsciously start making calculations for an unpredictable future, with the foolish hope that maybe I can make _something_ work, just at least to see how things unfold between us out of plain curiosity if for no other reason. Right now, all I can think of with his mouth moving against mine is that this isn't someone I want to let go of so easily.

Then suddenly, we hear a clunk and freeze up entirely. And when I realize the elevator is moving again, I push him off of me, standing up and rearranging my bunny ears, my hair, my outfit, before stuffing my belongings back into my bag. After putting his hat back on, he makes a move to help me too, and I don't turn him down as he takes up the spilled latte. When I least expect it, he tucks back a stray hair for me as well, and I swear I can feel my face flushing anew as he smiles at me while doing so. I look away from him, embarrassed and feeling like some silly lovestruck schoolboy even though _I'm a grown man_ , for goodness sake. But I suppose… it can't be helped. I've never felt this way about anyone before, so it'd only make sense for what I feel now to be affecting me so intensely.

The elevator doors, at long last, open up for us, bringing me to the floor I had originally intended to go to.

As we step out, I cough, "Uh, hey. Sorry for just shoving you off me like that."

"Don't worry about it, I get it." He waves it off, but I see right through his pretense, hear the softly slighted edge to his voice. "Anyhow, um. That was nice. I guess… I'll see ya around."

Before he can even think of taking off though, I instinctively grasp his wrist, the phrase _not yet_ resounding desperately in my head.

I should just let him walk and never look back. It'll make my life so much easier, plus he has a daughter to rush to right now, doesn't he? I can't get in the way of him doing his best for her. What right did I have to hold him back here, make him stay even a moment longer?

I already know it's unwise and irrational to act on this, but I want to know so badly, if this is something that was meant to happen… if anything can really work out between us. I just… I can't let it go, not with this overpowering notion telling me that I need to give it a chance. I need to see this to the end, see how it turns out… because what if it's supposed to turn out alright?

I don't want to miss out on that.

"Wait a moment, just…" I let go of his hand and fumble through my bag for my business cards, handing one to him, "here. I'm heading out of state tomorrow, so I don't know when I'm going to see you again. Let's keep in touch, alright?"

Accepting the card from me, he replies with a grin that soothes me, tells me that everything is going to be okay.

"Sure thing, Barnaby."

* * *

Despite my delay, I still manage to stay on top of things that day. After turning in my portfolio, I rush to get to my photoshoot in the nick of time, leaving my session at the gym as my final task for the day to compensate for the time spent in the elevator. I don't even bother filing the complaint anymore when I get a phone call right afterward saying someone—and an intern kid, at that—has arrived at my apartment to fix my lights. And while the electrician _finally_ works on them, I shower off and get out around the time the lights are fully functional again. With that, I pay the electrician, thanking her for her service, before going straight to bed.

It strikes me then, just as I start drifting off to sleep with a light, fuzzy feeling at the thought of kissing Kotetsu, that the man has horrible timing.

Answering the buzz of my phone on the nightstand, I yawn blearily, blinking at the text from an unfamiliar number.

" _Hey, it's Kotetsu. Just got home. Anyway, you said you were leaving NY tomorrow? Do you know how long until you're back?"_

I heave a sigh, texting back, _"I don't know actually. Why do you ask?"_

" _Just wondering…"_ there's a little pause, and I know he's not ending it on that note, I can feel it, and he adds, _"On the off-chance that you don't fall for some Californian beach babe while you're away, I'd like to know if you wanna maybe,"_ another pause works its way in and I hold my breath in anticipation, _"go on a date when you come back."_

It takes far more effort than I'd like to not just say "YES" right away.

Instead, I opt to comment, _"Pretty reckless of you, asking that with the knowledge that I'm leaving. Besides, it could be months, even a year, before I return. I wouldn't want to keep you waiting long."_

" _I think you're worth the wait. And I'm not just saying that because you're cute either."_ I feel my pulse jump at that. While I'm busy trying to think of how to best reply with an agreement to go with him, he says, _"Something in my gut tells me I'd be stupid to let you just slip away before I really got to know you. Now, what do you say?"_

" _I'll be looking forward to our date when I come back then."_

Throwing my phone back onto the nightstand, I shift to look back at the ceiling, wondering about what exactly I'm getting myself into. I'm certainly nervous, both in a serious and excited way, because I don't know what variables the future is waiting to drop on me. I worked through today though, so I have confidence that, even with a packed schedule, I can think of a way to sneak in a date with Kotetsu when I return. Breathing out a sigh, at last, I drift off to sleep, head happily spinning with ideas of taking him to a party, the café from today's photoshoot, or maybe to the beach if he'd be interested in that.

I know I'm a very busy man. But I'm sure I can find a way to squeeze some time in for him.


	3. Murphy's Law Sets the Universe in Motion

**A/N:**

 **I had mixed feelings about last chapter being the ending, because I still had lots of ideas left for this fic even after I uploaded it as a two-shot and marked it as "complete". I guess the feeling showed even though I tried to "wrap it up" (here's to anon), so I figure I may as well chase this thing to the very end. I think I'm genuinely out of (teen-rated) ideas for this fic, so here, have the last of that. :P It's the longest chapter in this whole story, so fair warning.  
**

 **I think we all wanted to see them being cute on that date with each other, yeah? Well, here ya go! o3o  
**

 **-Reddie**

* * *

 **-KOTETSU T. KABURAGI-**

My daughter constantly calls me a knucklehead, and I'm starting to think she's definitely right about that.

It's been a year and a day since I asked him out on a date, and the thought crossing my mind right now with my weekend off is that today would've been a great day to take him out. Because my daughter is staying over at her friend's house for a sleepover and the weather is so perfect out right now: crisp blue sky with funny dick-shaped clouds that I could use to make him crack up and beam like a damn ray of sunshine.

And fuck, what a sight that would be, because even after all this time, I can't get the image of his smile out of my head. I want to see it again so badly, hear his laugh too… but I can't even work up the nerve to send a text his way. Because every time I feel like texting him, I keep thinking that I'm bothering him while he's busy or whatever. I mean, the morning right after I asked him, I looked up stuff about modeling so that we'd have something to talk about on our date. And it turns out models got _way_ more on their plate than I thought: always on the move, nothing certain about tomorrow's plans, just skipping from one venue to the next without a break.

So, yeah, I'm a knucklehead, since only now am I starting to feel like I made a mistake asking him to go on a date with me. Because honestly, what if this was just a burden on him, something to squeeze into his already jam-packed schedule? What if he just said yes to shut me up? And, anyway, he wasn't making any promises to come back single. I asked him on the off-chance he didn't fall for anyone while in California, so the date itself isn't even guaranteed to happen. More than likely, he hooked up with someone in LA far more interesting and attractive than a lame old dad stuck working at Starbucks. And I wasted all that time waiting on a dumb crush that wasn't even meant to go anywhere in the first place.

"Come on, Kotetsu. You're just overthinking things!" My mom insists, patting my shoulder. "Cheer up. I bet he's looking forward to seeing you just as much as you are to seeing him."

"Thanks, Mom, but at this point I really can't help but doubt it," I sigh, sinking into the couch.

"Oh, hush! Remember, you've won someone over before, and you can do it again."

I snort, "At my age now? Yeah, right." With that, she swipes my phone from off the counter, swiftly getting past the lock screen. "Hey!"

"Look at this conversation, son." She shoves the phone in my face, "Take a good look at what he said and tell me it looks unenthusiastic. Because that's not what it looks like to me."

Cornered, I give up a groan and snatch my phone back from her, tracing my sights over his reply one more time.

" _I'll be looking forward to our date when I come back then."_

And like that, I feel my heart bounding in my chest all over again. Seriously, what is it about this guy that makes me feel like a fucking head-over-heels teenager?

"Even so, I'm not getting my hopes up," I grumble, leading my mother to shrug and smile knowingly at me.

"Just you wait. And while you're waiting, could you do your mother a favor and weed the garden before it gets dark out? I'm going to run some errands, so I'll be back late."

I wave her off, "Alright. What time will you be back?"

"Around nine."

"Gotcha." Rising from my seat, I add, "So I'll be making dinner tonight then."

"Ah. Okay then, dear. But just so you know, we're out of scallions and mayonnaise, so make do with what we have right now." With a last wave, she heads for the door, "I'll see you later."

"Bye, Mom."

* * *

I hate that she likes to let the weed problem fester long enough to be a hassle before she handles it.

Luckily, I've picked up quite a few tricks from watching her do her thing for a while now. I know she poured boiling water over the invasive little shits the last couple of days in a row, so all I gotta do is finish them off for good! So you know what that means? Just means I need to get down to boiling more water, of course! Then I can yank them out of the dirt and throw them in the garbage where they belong.

Wasting no more time, I turn the stove on and pour out the water into a big pot, easy-peasy. And everything just comes together perfectly, because, before I can get bored of waiting around on the water to even simmer, I hear my phone buzzing to life with a text from somebody. It's probably Antonio, maybe. And I'm only saying maybe because nothing is certain. What if it's Mom? What if it's Kaede? Hell, what if it's Nathan, attempting to flirt it up with me at this hour? Wait, nevermind, it can't be Nathan because he—whoops… I mean, _they_ , since they're not exactly a guy as it turns out—don't even have my number. Well, they could've weaseled it out of Antonio, I guess, but still! I don't think they'd go that far. Anyhow, I got carried away, eheh.

I think I just forget how to breathe for a second when I see who the text is from.

 _"Hey, Kotetsu. It's me, Barnaby. Remember? We were trapped in the elevator together, and I gave you my number. Anyhow, I'm finally back from Los Angeles, and I hate to ask this on short notice…"_

I feel myself swallow. Holy shit, holy _shit_ , he's in the middle of the text, what is he going to say, agh?

" _…but could you pick me up from the airport? If you're free, that is. Then we can go on that date, if you remember asking me, since I'm free today too._ "

You know, at that point, I don't even have to think about what my answer's going to be.

 _"Sure thing! What terminal are you at?"_

While he busies himself up with his current location, I take advantage of the moment to change into something decent before I charge right out the door. And thank god I remember right before heading out to _turn off the stove_. Wow, that would've been a real mess if I'd forgotten about it!

No sir, I can't have anything going wrong here!

* * *

You ever get so happy over something happening that it feels like the whole damn thing's a dream?

Because that's what everything feels like right now: completely unreal. It's like I'm floating on a cloud as I help him load his luggage into the trunk, the only thing tethering me down the earth being the sounds of chatter and honking cars around us. And even in the middle of this crowded noisy place where stupid drivers insist on cutting me off when there's no room, he's _smiling_ at me the whole time and saying he actually _missed me_ as he buckles up in the shotgun seat right next to me. Man, if my face isn't on fire right now… just that is enough to make this hell of a drive feel like a little piece of heaven for me.

Looks like I fell harder than I thought I did.

Whatever, if that's how it is, I just need to up my ante a little, keep it cool and play it suave. He's not going to sweep himself off his feet, after all! There are stories I'm waiting to uncover behind this sweet sleepy bunny's little smile, and clamming up the whole ride through won't get us anywhere. So… the best place to start off would be obvious.

"So," I glance over at him, grinning, "I take it Los Angeles must've been fun, yeah?"

He chuckles, "Definitely. I appeared in plenty of fashion shows, attended many parties, and met quite a few people along the way too. It was a pleasure to work with all of them."

"Heh, I'm sure betting it was," I tease, though I'm earnestly curious, "Did anyone catch your eye in particular?"

"Oh, actually, yes. In case you were wondering," His voice takes on a very wistful, dreamy tone, "I got myself involved in a lovely affair with a man named Ryan Goldsmith."

Okay… I was not prepared to hear that.

"You don't say?" I attempt to keep my voice even, for fear of sounding just a little jealous, which would've been really uncool. A year _was_ a long time, and the West Coast had so many people that it was going to be impossible for him to not find at least _one_ person over there attractive. Actually, when I think about it, I really shouldn't be surprised at all. He's a _model_ , for shit's sake, so like hell nobody was going to be all over him. I press tentatively, "Well, since you owe me a love story, tell me. How'd that go?"

"It was… an interesting experience, to say the least." He goes on, looking out the window, "He was working the camera for a number of the photoshoots I'd been involved in, although on occasion, he was more than happy to pose alongside me. He had an impressive portfolio too, with a diverse array of subjects, albeit at one point all I saw were pictures of his iguana in various lightings and angles." Allowing himself a second to chuckle, he then leaned into his hand, "I'll admit. I wasn't very fond of him at first. He was overtly flashy, arrogant, and headstrong. Not to mention, for the guy who was supposed to be _taking_ the pictures, he sure liked being the center of attention. However, it was difficult to not let him grow on me the way he did…"

From there, I feel some of the first few details about how they got together flying right over my head, making a something like a "whoosh!" sound as they pass me by, but I get the gist of it because I don't want to just up and ignore him. However, I find myself paying close attention once he really gets into the story, because I want to know what he's like in a relationship, what he cares about, and most importantly, why the two of them broke up.

Because… if he's still going on a date with _me_ , he can't be with that guy anymore, right?

"…anyhow, that's all in the past now. He and I have gone our separate ways, and I have no intentions of picking things back up ever again. Sure, it's certainly not an experience I'll be forgetting anytime soon. But right now, I'm more invested in making the present into something memorable."

That really is a relief to hear. "Yeah?"

"Of course! Like I said. I _missed_ you, Kotetsu. And I've been looking forward to this date with you for a very long time. Which leads me to ask…" He leans back, glancing over at me with curious eyes, "what exactly do you have planned for tonight?"

I laugh, because I could ask myself the same thing.

"Oh. Well, it's going to be chilly out…" I start, drawing what I can from the graying clouds in the slightly golden sky outside, "and since you just came back from Los Angeles… you must be pretty jet-lagged. So don't worry, I'm keeping it low-key." Finally, when it dawns on me, I roll with it and tell him, "We'll be going back to my place for a nice home-cooked meal under my mom's old kotatsu, which, if you're not familiar with it, is a small table with blankets and a built-in heater. Um… it's kind of hard to describe, but it's really warm and cozy to sit under, and I figure it'd be great for tonight. And we'll be alone too, because my Mom's out running errands, my brother gets back after midnight, and my daughter's staying over at a friend's house tonight. So it'll be just the two of us for a few hours."

"Ah, well that sounds nice…" he smiles, sighing happily in a way that just makes me want to smooch him stupid. Well, I mean… only if he _wants_ me to, which is, hopefully, what's going to happen by the end of tonight if not now or along the way. We've got plenty of time and plenty to talk about before that happens again.

And from the way I keep catching him looking at me from the corner of my eye, I can't help but feel like nothing can possibly go wrong.

* * *

Somebody had better call me butter, because I am on a _roll_ right now, ha!

To think I was worried about this whole thing being a hassle for him makes me want to laugh because he honestly looks like he couldn't be comfier, contently slumped on the kotatsu table. And the mood will be just right, because I'll have the door cracked open while I cook dinner so the smell can waft in, and there's this nice breeze drifting in on the curtains of the open window, and you can see the sun setting outside in a beautiful orange sky and _fuck_ , I forgot that I still need to weed the damn garden before it gets dark out!

Nope, no whining, I can handle this. I'll just boil up the water while I'm making dinner and sneak out real quick to finish off the job. There aren't too many weeds out there, so my work should be cut out for me.

"Alright, before I go start up dinner, are you allergic to anything?"

"No."

"Awesome. Oh! And would you like to have a drink too? Water, beer, hot chocolate, tea, anything?"

"Tea would be pretty nice."

"Okay then! I'll be right back. Make yourself at home and just relax, Bunny."

He tilts his head to look up at me, confused, before I realize exactly what slipped out. I slap a hand over my mouth and glance away from him. Aw, shit, did I just shoot the mood in the balls about now?

At last, his expression settles into something of a half-smile, a crack of a giggle coming through,

"Don't worry about it. Bunny's just fine, if you want. Thank you, Kotetsu."

"Not a problem, Bunny!" I smirk, with a wink and everything. I bet that looked pretty cool just now, hopefully. At least he's smiling, so that should be a good sign.

And with that, I'm out to the kitchen.

Putting together dinner is easy enough. Making fried rice with spare ingredients is basically about as simple as breathing for me, seeing this is the stuff I've been cooking for myself since high school. I put the kettle on too, and bring out a box with a crapload of tea in it. Nothing fancy really, so I hope he'd be satisfied with a nice hot cup of Tension Tamer. Then again that actually sounds like it'd be really great for someone like him, seeing that his line of work is definitely stressful.

The tea gets done first while the rice is still going, so I pop back in for just a moment to give Barnaby a mug of that stuff. Then the rice finally gets done before the weed pot, so that leaves me with a little bit of a waiting dilemma, but that's not too much of a problem when timers are a thing that exist. I set my guess to about fifteen minutes for when that will be done. Finally, I sit down just around the corner from him, so that we can share easily from the same plate. Turns out he had his feet stretched out under there, because when I stick out a leg of my own, it bumps into his foot. He stirs to sit up a bit more, and the thought comes to mind that maybe he'll think I'm playing footsie. That doesn't sound too bad, but I don't want him to be uncomfortable, which he kind of looks like he might be.

Retracting my leg so I can sit crisscross again, I rub the back of my head, "Oops, sorry."

"Mm," He waves it off with a mouthful of rice. But just when I think it's safe to brush it off, I swear, his toe scoots up to poke at my knee. I can't help but straighten out my back in surprise at that, so I look back at him. Maybe he didn't mean to bump me either? However, when he opens his mouth, it's only to tell me, "This tastes really good, Kotetsu." And before I can thank him for the compliment, he reaches across to brush a thumb over my chin, turning loose a grain of stray rice to my embarrassment.

"U-Um…" I draw back a little, speechless, but the only thought running through my head then as he takes his hand away is that I'm an idiot because I wanted that hand to _stay_ there! Why, brain, did you pull me away from such a nice little moment? Agh, great, now what if he thinks I'm not really that into him?

"Oh. Pardon me." He adjusts his glasses a little nervously, "You had some on your face so I thought you wouldn't mind…"

"No, no, no, it's fine, Bunny! Just took me by surprise was all. Uh. Thanks!" Then, with the realization that I sounded a bit frantic, I soften my voice, "That was sweet of you." Taking a chance, I nudge my knees towards his foot again as I say this. And to my luck, I catch his gaze while his foot presses back, a very knowing smirk plastered across his features.

He leans in a bit, propping himself up on his elbow while he asks, "So. Since you were so eagerly chowing down earlier, is it right to assume you like fried rice?"

"Yeah! My favorite food." Quickly, I shoot back, "And yours?"

"Hm… I'm torn between cabbage rolls and beef stroganoff. Both are delectable, I'd say. But this is quite delicious too." Taking up his mug of tea, he smiles warmly, "Your cooking really is amazing. I'm sure your daughter must love it."

"Well, she certainly did when she was little," I chuckle a bit. "After a while, my mom told me I needed to stop feeding her fried rice all the time, but I don't know how to cook much else, honestly. Never really got around to learning how to make other things. I had a lot of stuff to do."

"Understandable." He nods. And of course he gets where I'm coming from, though he's likely been swamped with way worse for his own line of work. But it makes me wonder: has he always been like this, or did he have breathing space once upon a time, somewhere in his adolescence? I mean, if I remember correctly, he told me he never really had time for a significant other…

With the curiosity brought to mind now, I ask, "What were you like growing up, Bunny?"

"…Busy. I always had something I needed to do." As he summarizes everything from the kids' commercials to robotics club meetings, I find myself scooting towards him, to hear a little better. And when he runs out of things to say about that, I feel his foot on my knee again. In reply, I unfold my leg again so my foot can push at his. Before I know it, he's got his hand on my shoulder, and my heart is beating so hard I'm wondering if he can feel it thumping against his palm. And that's fine, so long as he knows how I feel, and hell if that tender, smiling expression doesn't say enough.

"You really have a nice smile, Bunny." I murmur, leaning towards him. And he shifts towards me too, his nose meeting mine a little clumsily, brushing just a bit. He's blushing as he pulls me in a little closer, and the way the last of the sun's light falls over his face makes the sight of him all the more breathtaking. Holy _crap_ , I can hardly believe we're actually going to kiss after all this time!

But then the fucking timer just has to go off way louder than it should and scare us both shitless.

We jolt away from each other, knees bumping against the underside of the table so hard I'm surprised that nothing spills.

"What was that?" He blinks at me, eyes wide behind tilted glasses.

I gently nudge the frames, answering, "The timer in the kitchen. I, uh… I had to make something for another thing that…" I look outside and realize that it's going to get dark really soon, so I better hurry the fuck up with the weeds if I want to keep the whole evening from falling apart. "I need to take care of this. Hang on a moment. I'll be back real quick. I just need to take care of something."

"Alright."

I leave the room withholding the urge to smack myself on the forehead, because I know there's no time to lose. Fast as I can, I rush up to the pot—yes, the damn weed water's _finally_ boiling—and grab it by the handle, securing the lid as I bolt out to the backyard.

It's not tough. I make fast work of the already wilting weeds, dousing them for a last time with scalding water, careful not to get it on Mom's precious vegetables. And with the soil all wet around the roots, all it takes is a half-firm tug to scoop them out. By the time I finish it up, I'm glad to see the sky's still got a smidge of light in it, purpling over into night.

I stand back for only a second and admire my hard work, a fleeting thought of maybe asking Mom later if I could give Bunny one of those cabbages, since he said he likes cabbage rolls. But whatever, the longer I stand out here, the longer I keep him waiting, and I wouldn't want to do that.

Putting my hand on the backdoor handle, I feel my heart sink like the fucking Titanic.

"Aw, _shit_."

* * *

 **-BARNABY BROOKS JR.-**

I watch the violet sky blacken, the clouds moving in to cover up the rising moon. Trying to distract myself, I sip the mug of tea that, to my dismay, has gone cold. I'm not sure how long ago he left, but he said he'd be back soon. It doesn't necessarily bother me that he's been gone so long, because I am _very_ willing to wait for this man. I have been waiting a whole year just to see him again, after all. But he's been gone long enough to make me concerned…

"Kotetsu?" I call tentatively, voice just loud enough to reach the kitchen. No reply comes through, so I try a second time, and then a third time, much louder. It yields only a faint knock in the distance and I abandon the table to answer.

That must be him, right?

Logic brings me to the front door first, but I find no one there, so that leads me towards the back of his house, and there (at last!) I locate the source of the sound, as well as a muffled-up sort of sound of that childish (but admittedly endearing) nickname.

"Bunny! I'm out here! Help!"

Thank goodness, he's alright. Relief washes over me at the discovery, and I swing the door open.

"There you are, Kotets—WHOA!"

In hindsight, perhaps my movements were too reckless, because in my careless excitement to reach him, I miss the back steps and fall right into his arms. He breaks my fall only barely, however, and I collapse onto of him with a sharp, ungraceful grunt. And if that isn't bad enough, I can hear the door closing behind me, effectively locking us both out of the house.

I can't quite say I'm surprised by this turn of events, actually. In every encounter I've had with Kotetsu so far, probability has never really favored our good fortune. Honestly, I had even been expecting tonight to go terribly (which it has), seeing that things had been going so right that they simply _had_ to go wrong at one point. I can practically hear Ryan's smug voice right about now, as if he hadn't already warned me to be prepared for the worst.

" _Good luck on your little date! You'll need it, Junior."_

I feel a shift beneath me.

"Owww…" Kotetsu groans, pressing his palms up against me, and that's enough to stir me out of disorientation. Instantly, I sit up so as not to crush him, before getting off of him entirely.

"Sorry, sorry!" Helping him to stand, I look down at him in worry, "Are you alright, Kotetsu?"

"I'm fine…" He mutters, rubbing his shoulder a bit, hands covered in dirt, "Agh, I should be the one who's sorry. Did I keep you waiting long?" My goodness, I injured him and _that's_ what he's concerned about?

"Nevermind that! Are you sure nothing hurts? At all?" The cringe that results when I touch his shoulder again tells me enough, and I draw my hand back hastily, not wanting to do him any more harm. I hang my head, guilty for my carelessness. Oh, this is _awful_... what do I do?

"Hey, I said I'm fine, Bunny. It's probably just a bruise, so don't worry! It'll heal up."

"I'm really sorry," I sigh, shaking my head, "for just leaping out at you, I mean—I-I was worried because you were taking so long and… ugh, you know, what were you even _doing_ out here?"

"Oh, right. See, I had to weed the garden today, but then you texted, and I was just so excited to have you over that I forgot all about it, heh!"

I blink back at him. I already knew he was happy to have me over, but to hear him say it out loud like this almost feels a little too good to be true. I can hear the sincerity in his voice though.

And yet I still find myself saying, "Really?"

"What do you mean, 'really'? Of course! Otherwise we wouldn't be in this mess, would we?" He throws back his head with a bit of a laugh, "I hope this 'getting trapped together someplace' thing doesn't become a regular occurrence though. That would really suck."

"It would," I frown, looking up at the brightening moon. "You wouldn't happen to have the time, would you?"

"Yeah, it's... almost eight. My mom's coming back around nine, so we shouldn't be here long, so in the meantime—"

"We can just talk, right?" I finish for him, without really thinking.

And he smiles at me, "Took the words right outta my mouth."

* * *

We sit down on the back steps and prattle on in vignettes of memory, various adolescent misadventures and snippets from college life. Inevitably, we do end up on the subject of dating experiences. While he seems to have quite a number of positive stories to share about certain people in particular, I hear some specific complaints about a few rotten exes that he had in particular between the breaks with Tomoe, namely those who had brought gross assumptions about Asian men into the relationship (based on that alone, I honestly can't blame him). But when he sets forth his own share of questions about Ryan, it brings up a bout of insecurity for me.

My limited experience with relationships and the things they usually entail pales in comparison to Kotetsu's broad history. The fact of the matter still remains that I've only ever had one romantic relationship prior to accepting this date with Kotetsu. It makes me doubt that I'd actually be able to take things past the first date, but I very deeply wish to make things work.

But now, with the troubled look on his face, I can't help but ask, "I'm sorry. It didn't occur to me until now, but… are you upset that I didn't wait for you?"

"Well… honestly, I'm more confused than anything else," He laughs a bit, "about why you're even here."

"What do you mean by that?" I rejoin, slightly taken aback.

He explains, "Good looks aside, I'm pretty certain you could have anyone you want wrapped around your pinky just like that. So… why bother going on a date with me of all people when you could've ditched me for someone cooler back in Cali?" Catching himself, he switches tone, "I mean! Not to sound self-deprecating, because, I mean… I-I guess I'm a halfway decent guy, seeing that I got married once and everything. Not to sound cocky either, because you know, everyone's different and I get I can't be everyone's cup of tea! But, uh… just wondering. Ugh, sorry if this is coming out awkward…"

There's only one way to reply to this.

"Well, if you honestly want to know why I agreed to go on this date with you… it's because I really like you, Kotetsu." I can't help but chuckle a little bit at how flustered he gets when I say that.

Covering his forehead with one hand, he glances away from me, "But. _Whyyyyy?_ "

"I could ask you the same thing." Hoping he doesn't notice the slight shakiness in my movements, I take his hands into mine, looking him in the eyes, "I like you because you're gentle and compassionate. I know you're very caring because you treat other people's problems like they're your own. You don't like letting people down, especially the ones you care the most about. At the same time… you're not afraid to take chances and you come at life with your all. But, like a true gentleman, you never force things when plans don't go as expected, and you have my respect for that." I pause, before confessing, "You're truly such an amazing person… and I'm still finding it hard to believe that nobody else had come along to sweep you off your feet while I was gone."

He snorts, "Like I would've let them! And miss out on you?" He squeezes my hands softly, lowering his tone, "One thing though. I don't mean to come off like this actually weighs on me… but the fact that you were with that Ryan guy, well… sounded like you had a hell of a time with him, and I'm a little nervous that I won't be able to measure up."

"To set you at ease, I'll admit that I… left a few things out about that affair."

He looks at me curiously, hesitantly, "Such as?"

"For one thing, our situation wasn't necessarily a reciprocated one." I begin, wondering how to phrase this, "However, I don't mean to imply that I had been stringing him along the whole time. From the start, we both made ourselves rather clear to one another. Ryan is well in-tune to his orientation, so he taught me a great deal about himself and helped me learn quite a bit about myself as well. You see, he's akoiromantic, meaning that he was in love with me, but he didn't want a return of those sentiments."

Kotetsu blinks, wide-eyed, "That's a thing?" I can only nod, and he prompts, cautiously, "So… what does that make you?"

"I'm demiromantic. Meaning that I'll only fall for someone I develop a significant emotional bond to." I clear my throat a little. "Specifically, that someone would be you, because… well, I never had the opportunity to really sit down and get to know somebody on the level I got to know you in the elevator. And I couldn't really feel that way about anyone else, even Ryan after I got to know him too. Then again, he kept enough to himself, so I never got to know him _that_ well…"

"Wait, wait, wait." He shakes his head at me, "So you're saying you went ahead and got together with somebody else even though you had a crush on me?" I open my mouth only to find it devoid of words, so I can only nod. "What was the point of that then?"

"I was worried. I've never been in a relationship before, let alone ever been on a date with anyone, so… I was worried you'd be annoyed with my lack of experience with… with these sorts of arrangements."

"Ohhh…" He moves a hand to pat my back, grinning warmly with understanding eyes, "I gotcha. But no worries! I… I— I—"Abruptly, he turns away from me, "A _CHOO_!"

"Gesundheit." I look at him in concern, "Are you cold?"

"I'm fine," He says, hiding his discomfort. And I can only laugh a little bit, shaking my head. There he goes, trying to act tough for my sake. But he doesn't have to. He adds, "I'm fine as long as you keep smiling like that, that's for sure."

"You're _cold_ ," I insist, shrugging off my jacket before draping it over his shoulders, "and I'd rather you be _warm_ , Kotetsu."

And with that, his head falls against my shoulder.

"I'd rather not be warm at your expense though."

I reassure gently, "You're not. In fact, if you're going to lean against me like that, I'll find it quite hard to be chilly." He gives up a breath of a laugh up to the air, and I feel his arm wrap around my waist to pull me closer.

"That was the idea." After a pleasant pause of sitting together like this, he says, "I like you too, Bunny. Just as much."

"I know," is all I can say, and he just gawks at me. "What? We were playing footsie rather insistently earlier, weren't we? And we were also about to kiss… right?"

He can only chuckle lowly at that, and it drives a shiver through me. Slowly, he shifts, settled with his knees on either side of my lap, and I feel myself swallow. Cupping my cheek, he asks, "Would you like to continue where we left off then?"

Where words fail me, my own movements speak to form a proper response. I draw him in, circling my arms around him to grasp at his back, until his lips are finally molded against mine. He doesn't dare move away, only presses his mouth more firmly against mine, his tongue slipping between my parted lips quite easily.

And I can't help but note just how smoothly this is going, the way I respond naturally to his kisses without really having to think about it. The first few times Ryan and I kissed, he told me I was putting too much thought into it, and that I needed to relax. Maybe this is why. Things just feel much more _right_ like this with Kotetsu, and I can't find myself wanting to make out this feverishly with anyone else. His kisses make me dizzy in a far different way from Ryan's, and I feel so at home in his arms, so warm and secure and _happy_. We're panting breathless with the short breaks between our lips, but I honestly feel like I need air less than I need his mouth against my own right now.

Here, I'm not exactly thinking about _how_ I want to go about kissing him in a way that he likes, but rather more fixated on simply keeping up. His teeth and tongue communicate the desire quite eagerly, nibbling and sucking on my lips and swirling around in my mouth until I'm quivering with a certain type of helplessness taking hold, both a pleasant and intimidating feeling. I prefer being in control of my situation when I can help it, but this particular vulnerability is rather endearing to me in that I can trust him to take charge.

But there are certain things I have been yearning to do to him, and if he'll let me, I'd rather not hold it off.

I break away to kiss up his jaw, the scruff of his cutely-cut beard tickling my face as I trail towards his ear.

"Tell me if you want me to stop, alright?" I whisper, feeling him tremble a little in my arms as he croaks out a breathless "okay" in reply. With that, I bite the lobe of his ear tenderly, teasing the soft flesh with my tongue and relishing the way it makes him pant and groan pleasantly. Blowing a gentle breath over the wet skin, I murmur, "Does this feel nice, Kotetsu?"

"Mmn, y-yeah… haahh…" With that, I lick a stripe down the side of his neck, trailing back up again with tiny kisses so I can whisper in his ear again.

"Would you mind having hickeys, or would you rather not?"

He groans, almost a whimper even, "Ugh, _fuck_ , Bunny…"

"Well?"

"Dammit, yes, give me hickeys!"

"Impatient…" I scold, chuckling as I happen upon one of the more sensitive spots on his neck, near his throat, and I feel his grip on me tighten ever so slightly as I suck and nip there with great care, biting once just hard enough and licking over the teeth marks.

"Think we—aaahh, _shit_ —think we both did our fair share of waiting, nngh…"

"Agreed." I say, shifting a bit to brush my knee between his legs. He moans right in my ear, a quiet sound, and goodness, is it a beautiful sound, one I want to hear over and over again, louder and more insistent, more desperate.

The sound that isn't so beautiful, however, is that of the door opening right behind us, accompanied by an unfamiliar, elderly voice.

"Kotetsu?" And with that, he jolts, jumping off of me.

"Mom!"

I look up behind me to see her peering down at me with a look of confusion… then realization… then something I'm not sure how to read.

If I was to die of embarrassment, now would be the moment for it to happen.

* * *

The three of us finish dinner together, speaking casually in a way that eases my nerves. Kotetsu clarifies the conditions that led to our predicament earlier, drawing a laugh out of his mother. And when she glances over at me, I'm not quite as daunted by her gaze once I recognize she holds no ill feeling towards me. But, as far as I can tell, she's looking at me with a sort of guarded caution, which makes sense when I put some thought into it, considering the sight she witnessed earlier. Her eyes, though warm and kind like her son's, seem to be set upon me with thoughts of appraisal, whether or not I'm worthy of her son's time. And if I were to answer that question, I'd say I honestly don't know, because I'm not sure I really deserve his precious time. Infatuated with him or not, I am still a very busy man. And I don't want him to waste long months waiting on me…

At the end of the evening, his mother offers to escort me to the nearest train station so I can go home for the night. It's only a block away, but the nerve-wracking silence between us makes the walk there feel that much longer. She's contemplating her words carefully, peering up at me every now and then with a look of concern and curiosity, until finally, she sets her eyes dead ahead and opens her mouth.

"Tell me, Barnaby, did you have a good evening?"

"For the most part, yes…" I answer vaguely. To put it bluntly though, I wouldn't say the date went spectacularly. I was alone a good portion of the time, and getting locked out of the house certainly wasn't enjoyable. But it certainly didn't go horribly either, because the conversations flowed effortlessly, and well… I _did_ give Kotetsu a hickey, so that part definitely wasn't bad at all.

"Good. That's a relief to hear," She sighs, smiling at me. "He'd been looking forward to seeing you again all year."

"It was the same for me."

Her brows furrow just a little bit, smile remaining on her face, "Barnaby?"

"Yes, Mrs. Kaburagi?"

She crosses her arms, facing me, "I have one question for you. What exactly did you hope to accomplish by seeing my son today?"

I swallow, wondering exactly how honest an answer she wants from me. I wanted a number of things today: to see him and hear his voice, make him laugh and smile at me, hold him in my arms and kiss him, and maybe snatch up more dates that could possibly lead into a hopefully lasting relationship. I honestly think I might love him, but that's too much to say, and I can hardly gauge what her reaction would be to how strongly I feel about him this early on. Would she deem me too reckless, overtly emotional and unfit to be with Kotetsu then?

All I can manage is a stutter, "U-Um…"

"Were you just humoring him with your company?"

"No, I… I want to date him. Quite badly."

"For how long?" She presses, testing, "Will this be a fling, and then onto the next city?"

"No!" I find myself blurting out, shocking her a little bit. Lowering my volume, I say, "I… think there might be something between us, and I want to hold onto it and see where it goes. I'm hoping for the best, but… I can't promise I'll always be able to make him a priority. I'm very passionate about my job, and I have quite a bit of work to do. But I'll make sure to give him whatever time I can, because that's the best I can do… and I really think he deserves the best."

She chuckles, "I do too." Placing a hand on my shoulder, she says, "Give him your best then, Barnaby. Take care."

* * *

I feel light the whole ride back home, and two hours after I finally get there, I receive a text from him wishing me good night, which I echo as a reply. I go to sleep warm with tender thoughts of him for the next two weeks, and even the photographers can see a genuine difference in my smile because of him. I can hardly help it, when we've been calling and texting back and forth often enough at night. Eventually, I learn his work schedule well enough to know when it's appropriate for me to talk to him, and I finally build up the nerve to ask him this time on a date when I find the chance.

He says yes at first, but then something comes up that renders him unable to make it that day. I brush it aside as he makes a raincheck, hoping another opportunity comes along. To my luck, it comes within the next few days, and we meet up after closing time to take a walk through the town. This time goes by much more smoothly, ending with a slow, lingering embrace that I can still feel surrounding me long after he leaves to go home for the night. Successive dates follow up, going well to my delight.

And before I realize it, the next time I stroll by Starbucks for a drink, he's written "Barnaboyfriend" on my cup. The pun is almost cringe-worthy, but my heart practically skips a beat when I see it. Each sip is that much sweeter as the significance of the pun sinks in. I realize that things worked out. My hopes have come true, and now, it's just me spending time with my boyfriend.

The skittish worries of infatuation subside eventually, and love becomes more of a soothing feeling of safety as he wraps his arms around me. In time, I do get to meet his brother, who accepts me casually, and then finally his daughter, who at first is overwhelmingly star-struck. It turns out I'm one of her favorite fashion models, and after signing a number of magazine issues emblazoned with my picture across the cover, the idolizing sparkle in her eyes tones down to something more personal. And by the time she sees me as less of a celebrity and more of her dad's boyfriend, she phases into getting adorably protective of him, before shifting to a supportive stance.

As expected, I end up having to leave the state again for business. I drop by for a frappuccino to say bye that day, receiving a smiley-faced heart on my cup and a kiss on the cheek shortly before I leave, hearing him call something out to me as I pass through the door. That "Take care, Bunny" and an "I love you!" resound like a spellbinding melody in my head, lulling me to sleep on the plane ride to Florida. I text him that night upon reaching my hotel room, only to have him call me, his voice hushed to prevent waking anyone in the house.

He requests, "Can you look out your window?"

"Sure." I stand and push aside the curtain, looking to the view of the bright city lights below. I hear him snicker on the other end of the line. I shake my head and laugh as well, asking, "What are we doing?"

"Stargazing together! Can you see the moon from where you are?"

"Yeah…"

"So can I! Let that be a reminder then, Bunny…" he murmurs, "if you miss me, go look at the stars. I'm looking at them too, and thinking of you. Still under the same sky, so we're not _that_ far apart."

It's an endearing concept, and it becomes a mostly nightly occurrence for us, to talk over the phone while staring at the sky together. This connection by their light is a perfect reminder, that even though I'm not currently standing right by his side, we are still standing together. And if I could ask the stars to relay a single message aside from the "I love you"s I end every call with, it would be to tell him one thing.

I can hardly wait to see him again.


End file.
